


Poisonous Doses

by neptunedemon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Humor, IN SPACE!, M/M, Misunderstandings, Non-Graphic Violence, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 08:19:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17403404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: After a mission assignment from the Rebellion goes awry, Yuuri lets his night take a detour into one of the many underbellies of the galaxy. But even in the vastness of space, you can't always run from your mistakes.





	Poisonous Doses

The bartender set down another glass, swapping out the empty one with a quick grab. It twinkled when pulled away in low, mocking winks. Yuuri winced as someone shouted and a dish shattered. That was the third broken glass since he got here, and he hoped it wasn’t tantamount to the amount of time he’d lost track of since taking his seat.  

A busboy ran out from the kitchen, face grim as his eyes landed where the glass shattered. His expression was telling that the culprit was the same as earlier.

If the crowd at Zedok’s Loose Station lobby had been shady, it was nothing in the wake of this.

Yuuri had passed the series of computers stationed for room and spacecraft rentals, avoided the eye contact with any attendants, and headed down the south wing to where, past the restaurants and casinos, the Loose’s bar was.

Its patrons blended into the shadows cast by the dim lighting, and the whole room smelled like ash and bleach. Their voices were hushed, like a bunch of idle ship engines humming, and so nothing was distinguishable among the glass clinks and chair scrapes. On a low stage, someone with a guitar strummed gently and half-sung, half-hummed lyrics into a mic. It set the mood to the proper shade of cosmic overcast.

Though the place was rich with regret and alcohol, there were bright windows that started halfway up the walls and reached the ceiling. Beyond their glass tilted space. Crystalline, dark, unyielding, and without judgment. Yuuri’s eyes fell forlornly back to the liquor in his glass. He shouldn’t be here drowning in self-pity. Space crews from around the galaxy holed up in Loose Stations, anonymous and tired, to dip into the pleasures of being loosed from one’s governing planet. Or to escape responsibilities. There would be as many politicians here as there were vagabonds.

Yuuri wasn’t here to throw across a bar mistakes that could be sucked into the gravity of a Loose Station. And he was definitely not escaping a planet - he would maybe be escaping somewhere, if he still had a home beyond the steely walls of spacecrafts. But hell, he might as well not even have name to his ship either after the day he’d had.

See, Yuuri was captain of a Priority 7 crew of the Rebellion. To the Federation, they were black market scum, dirty dealers, and of course, traitors. Priority 7 didn’t exactly put them at the top of anyone’s most wanted list, and they certainly weren’t getting the most dire, game-changing missions, but their work WAS one piece of a bigger cause. And tonight they’d gotten screwed.

His crew had warned him against indulging in their failed mission this way. It wasn’t the drinks or the anonymity he wanted though. He just wanted… _away_. But ironic though it was, there weren’t many opportunities for solitude in space.

Yuuri threw back his drink. Not being here for the drinks didn’t mean the liquor still didn’t feel good hitting his throat. It spread inside him, warm, unfurling, and forgiving, when he heard someone above his left side say, “Bad night?”

His heart sank. He hadn’t wanted to be disturbed, but also, how rude! He wondered if he looked that miserable.

A man sat next to him. He was kempt but evidently tired. Something that could only be described as wild exhaustion was evident in the eyes that acknowledged Yuuri in further greeting. A drink was already in his hand, half gone. That meant he’d been here for a while and for some reason was choosing to approach Yuuri.

“Quite awful,” Yuuri humored the question. He watched the man lift his own drink to his lips. _Quite awful, indeed,_ the thought echoed idly. He hadn’t expected someone to approach him and wasn’t in the mood for talking, especially not with the types in this place. As if to accentuate that point, there was a sudden holler from someone crowded into the tables behind him.

The other reason Yuuri found himself in a Loose Station tonight was because his crew hadn’t received permissions to leave the quadrant Zedok inhabited, but they didn’t have clearances to enter the planet itself. This was truly his only option without wasting resources and time. The Loose Station was reachable by port craft, driveable by just himself. But Zedok was with the Federation, and Yuuri’s skin crawled at the reminder they were in enemy territory.

Past another bitter sip, he guided his stare over the man.

The stranger rested an elbow on the table and placed his chin on top of his hand. There’s a trace of melodrama in his lost gaze, eyes panning over the liquor bottles on a counter across the bar. Yuuri thought he might know he’s being checked out, but ignored the inclination to look away. The alcohol could be thanked for that trace of boldness.

The stranger had a jacket draped over his arm. It’s gray and sleek, and through one of its folds Yuuri thought he recognized a familiar emblem patched on, but it disappeared when the man tugged it onto his lap. His undershirt is white with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, and gray pants match the sleek expensive taste of the jacket. Yuuri wondered if he’s in a high-ranking position. The glimpse of the emblem almost showed something like Zedok’s colors but he couldn’t be sure.

It would be unusual for a citizen to be hanging at a Loose Station, a rest stop filled with ungodly sorts of things to entertain travelers needing a break from the void and their own crew. Loose Stations revolved around their planets, so a local wouldn’t be visiting, but perhaps he worked here?

Still apparently mulling over Yuuri’s _quite awful, indeed_ night, the man smiled and nodded. Eyes landed on Yuuri again. This time they seem to stutter, like fully seeing him for the first time. His hair shifted a little over one eye, adding a dash of precociousness to his look. “I can relate. My night was tedious, as well. I was bested by someone.”

Yuuri’s chest tightened. The lament was so similar to his own. The man was twisted sideways to watch him, and Yuuri noted he was unfairly handsome. Plus he didn’t own the aura of - well, a person typical to this type of place. He was as out-of-place as Yuuri felt himself to be.

The stranger’s stare was pinning him down, gauging his response, and god dammit he’d only been sitting here for two minutes. Maybe he was just paranoid?

Somewhere a glass broke again, but neither of them twitched. Ashes and bleach were at the end of the scent of his drink. He brought it to his lips again and when he’d swallowed, voice dry, he asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

The man took another drink; Yuuri wasn’t sure what he was drinking, but it was clear, and he didn’t realize until he’d emptied the glass that he was even staring.

“You don’t look like Loose Station type,” the stranger redirected.

Yuuri’s face went a little hot, but he kept his pride wrapped tight in the grip of his glass. He focused on his thumbs rubbing smooth along the rim. The stranger’s arm was on the bar, empty glass perched beside his elbow.

The mixture of the stranger’s attractiveness, stare, the way he was poised toward Yuuri like this was an interview - it pushed his confidence outward like sliding a drink across the bar. Suddenly the back of Yuuri’s neck prickled and he felt his mood shift, responding to some invisible challenge.

“You’re from Zedok,” he assumed allowed. “Shouldn’t I assume you work here?”

The man laughed and sounded genuinely amused. There was an impression of fondness in his eyes that striked Yuuri to his core.

“Hardly!” His laugh fell away. It didn’t escape Yuuri’s notice that he hadn’t denied being from Zedok. He wanted to inquire further, but that would be beyond Loose Station etiquette.

“Must’ve been a really bad night to decide to come here.”

He waved for another drink. “I was feeling impulsive. What about you?”

Yuuri attempted to condense his wild, illegal evening into few words. “You could say I was bested by someone, too.”

“Ah, then we’re alike.” He gestured to the crowds behind them. “I thought you seemed the best choice to sit near. The rest of these kind look - and sound - like they’re escaped convicts.”

It was Yuuri’s turn to laugh. “Oh yes, definitely. I was concerned when I first heard a ‘hello,’ but well -” His voice trailed off. He wanted to fight the returning heat in his face because he actually hadn’t meant to be that obvious, the words just spilled out. The man didn’t even pause though. He gave Yuuri a pleased smirk before turning to accept his drink from the bartender.

A hotness was burning in his own blood, beyond the alcohol. He would call it an impulsive desire, but it pulled from somewhere deeper than that. He hadn’t come here tonight with hopes of _meeting_ someone at all. But there was a curiosity this stranger was piquing that made him hungry.

He felt his terrible day begin to ebb away. The temptation to release his strifes into that ebb, coax it into washing away, was deep. It was easy to drop his arms, his guard, and let it all fall into the sea of space.

“What can I call you?” asked the man.

Yuuri, stupidly, didn’t think at all, and just answered with “Yuuri.” He blinked, a small rise of panic breaking through the fog he was letting cloud his judgement. Then it dissipated. This guy doesn’t know him, won’t ever really know him, and one little name won’t make a difference.

“Viktor,” he offered in return. Yuuri wondered if that’s his true name, too. He searched Viktor’s face, and it was unveiled and open mixed with that insatiable curiosity Yuuri felt in himself.

“All right then,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Viktor.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

..:: **TEN HOURS** EARLIER ::..

The mission at Zedok was a disaster by any standard. And that was saying a lot for a crew with the Rebellion working in the underbelly of the galaxy.

The entire Zedok Entry Station was dark enough to complement the space beyond the ship walls. But their current location inside was far from void, and Yuuri was in quite a disadvantageous position. Somewhere in the dark were Phichit and Sara. He heard them in the form of distant scuffling and shouting.

Forced to tune them out, Yuuri listened for any movement around him. He waited for a change to the air, a breath at his back, anything at all. He’d trained in the dark before, but it didn’t make the current situation any simpler.  

Because coming at him in the dark was the person who’d turned off the lights.

They were supposed to meet a handler, deliver a small package of medicinal cargo, and be on their way. Their mission had been smooth; they’d docked in the Hangar Bay, where Mila was waiting, and were making their way toward the Station’s lobby, when the lights had shut off and they’d been ambushed in the dark.

Someone must have recognized them as unauthorized personnel via security camera, but Yuuri didn’t know how, as they weren’t wanted. Their faces shouldn’t have triggered anything.

A whoosh of air swept in front of his face, and Yuuri launched forward with his stun gun extended. He met no one. His finger twitched anxiously over the trigger. He needed to save its power for when he was sure he has an actual target to meet. Plus a paralyzing whip of electrical currents thrown into the room could hit one of his own.

His lungs seared with the pressure to not breathe heavy despite his heart pounding hard. It was _i_ _nsane_ to cut power to the lights. His crew never would have anticipated that. Without light, incoming ships would be lost in the stormy atmosphere of the planet. All would be essentially blind. This was a port for cargo and people, not just any old space station!

This meant they were dealing with someone reckless.

He heard the familiar zap of a stun gun elsewhere, followed by a yelp and heavy collapse. The electrical current provided moment’s light to see a figure disappear to his left. As Yuuri whirled around with a step back, he could only send a small, scant hope into the universe that neither of his team were down.

There was an intake of breath and he heard a foot step in front of him. His teeth ground together to keep him from cursing as he tried to bound into an attack but met nothing.

Another yell in the dark, not around him. He couldn’t identify the voice.

At least they’d seemed to have caught these people unprepared, though it was only a matter of time before their backup arrived, likely with lights and weapons that weren’t fists.

Yuuri sidestepped the wave of motion coming his way again, but his enemy must have backtracked and used the momentum of their initial movement to launch themselves again, because a body was colliding into his. He lost his balance and took a tumble for the floor. He held tight to the stun gun, keeping it aimed away, as he recovered on his knees.

Against his earlier rules, Yuuri reached out blindly and slammed his finger down on the trigger. The air charged, his hair stood on ends, and a crackling strip of light shot out. His target dodged, but barely, and Yuuri took a risk and used its last bit of energy to aim where the imprint of a person’s shadow was left on his eyes.

The person hissed, yelled out, “Damn!” and Yuuri heard them hit the floor. In these scant flashes of light he still hadn’t taken notice of the person’s features, but they sounded like a man, and he could tell it was someone taller and broader than himself.

He scrambled to his own feet. The person wouldn’t be down for long, and there was no point in apprehending him further. They needed to get out.

The small silence stolen now was cut short with the drop of an alarm. It blared, ringing bloody red in Yuuri’s ears, and a red light pulsed into the room. Yuuri was already to the door with Phichit and Sara were right behind him. Yuuri didn’t bother looking for their pursuers before pushing his way out into a hall lit only by the pulsating red glow.

The deck would be locked down during a security breach - but that hadn’t stopped them before. Assuming Mila was taking care of any issues with the deck staff, they had a solid start to an escape.  

Each flash of light imprinted a red, hazy image of the walls and doorways into Yuuri’s mind. He let that guide him, fighting the disorienting effect of the lights. Their thudding footsteps filled in between alarm shrieks.

Another good sign was that only confused yells emanated from behind doors and down branching halls. When they cleared out onto the deck, they were met with the wonderful sight of Mila standing above two motionless bodies. The alarm light glowed around her, its red bouncing off her hair and making her look like wildfire - especially with the proud grin she was owning.

“Good news,” she said. “First, they’ll be fine. Second, this isn’t a lock-down. The lights went off everywhere, and the security system for a power outage was activated.”

“So much for their master plan, huh?” Phichit laughed, hoisting himself into their parked ship. Yuuri noticed he still had the backpack filled with their delivery strapped to him. The relief hitting him received a jab of pain.

Mila frowned at the bag as realization of their failed mission set in. She gave Yuuri a strict and inquisitive look as Sara hopped inside, but he shook his head, face hot with frustration.

“Damn, this one really went poorly, huh?” She boarded the ship after Yuuri and went for the navigation controls without pause, but continued to whine. “I did not want to come back here, guys.”

Yuuri grimaced. The alarm was still blaring and he could hear yelling. “You can get us out, right?” he asked, ignoring Mila’s gripe.

“Of course.” Her hands flew across the screen before her. A few bypassed angry password prompts later, and the door to one of the docking bays shuddered to life and began to open.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

The density of the crowd fluctuated with the rise and fall of the hour, but Yuuri and Viktor stayed in their spot at the bar. Beyond the initial show of confidence, Viktor was kind and easy to fluster, which Yuuri found himself causing by accident.

“It’s a total tincan,” Yuuri said about the tiny vessel he’d delivered himself in. “Kinda rickety, and you know it won’t break on you, but then do you _really_ know that?”

Viktor waved a hand in enthusiastic agreement. “Yes, you wonder how that passed an inspection at any quadrant’s level. You didn’t just have your crew drop you off?”

“Make them do that, for this?” Yuuri gestured around them and shook his head. “Never.”

“Well I imagine you’re not keen on flying that can back out there.”

Yuuri shrugged. “No, but I’m realistic. I know it’s actually fine.”

“Drinking and flying, Yuuri?” he teased. The sound of his own name burned his skin. He swallowed down the heat.

“Autopilot was a grand ‘ole invention a few hundred years ago.”

Viktor huffed at the joke, but his eyes watched Yuuri with another intention. “Well, I got myself a room.”

Yuuri made an involuntary sound in the back of his throat. Their conversation had been full of this sort of low, tentative flirting, challenges toward the other that poked at their anonymity and the incongruent factors that’d led them to share the bar tonight.

“Sounds nice,” Yuuri said. His heart beat hard, but he traced a finger along the bar’s surface and said, “I’m sure they’re booked up by now.”

Viktor was pointedly watching his finger trace patterns as he said, “Oh yes, surely.” There was a heavy pause between them. Yuuri licked his lips, idly and nervously, and felt the rest of the Loose’s bar slip away.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

..:: **FOUR HOURS** EARLIER ::..

Explaining why they failed to their Mission Manager wasn’t fun.

They called in to report their status and send their mission stats through, except they had no stats and only a short report. Celestino was conferencing into a large monitor before them. He was all the stillness of stone while Yuuri described their brief debacle. A little petty, he put great emphasis on their smooth escape.

Celestino dropped his shaking head into his hand. With the other he gestured in heavy waves through the air and said, “Turned the lights off, and you couldn’t handle it! How do I report this?”

Yuuri focused on a plaque hung to the wall just above Celestino’s head. “It was a complete breach in their own security protocol, I’m sure. Their security system was activated for a power outage, according to Mila. It must’ve thrown the whole ship into disarray.”

“And you didn’t take advantage of that disarray?”

Yuuri’s fist tightened. The others were very still around him. “The entire ship was about to enter a lockdown.”

It made him angry, too. On their trip back to their starship he’d played the disaster on repeat in his head, thought through every detail he knew about lockdown protocols and security measures, and wondered if they still could have reached Popovich somehow. He really thought not, and he thought the sacrifice of the mission was worth his crew’s freedom and the success of future missions. Yet that was the type of optimistic, humanitarian thinking that made the Rebellion question whether or not he was fit for captaining at all.

Celestino watched, his eyes sifting between each of them through the camera. Then he took a deep breath and sighed, and his entire body seemed to unwind with it. He slumped back into his chair. “Yes, yes, but this mission wasn’t supposed to be hard. No matter how unforeseen the events were, I’m not sure headquarters will take lightly to the failure.”

“They don’t have to know,” Sara broke in. She looked at the others, cautious and clearly begging of them to interrupt her if she went too far. Yuuri’s stomach tightened. “Not if we attempt the mission again before its report is due.”

Yuuri turned on her. “What?”

Celestino was already waving her words away.

“Just jump back into the throes of their suspicion? You’re better than to come to that idea, Sara.”

Sara put her hands flat on the table. “Hear me out. We rent a smaller vessel, right?” She looked at the others. “We just send a smaller team. Yuuri of course. And I don’t mind -”

“Me!” Phichit volunteered. “Yuuri and I used to tag team a lot of things before we landed ourselves with the Rebellion.”

“Sure,” Sara agreed. “I was thinking about it, and they didn’t see us. Only a few people were aware there were intruders, thanks to whoever shut the lights off, and it must’ve been someone who caught our false identification in their system, not our faces. If we could get Popovich to change his location, meet us earlier, then skip out of there. Couldn’t it work?”

All eyes fell to Yuuri. Something about their night was too strange for him to want to jump right back in. However their priority was their missions and the longevity of the crew. They needed to take any opportunities they had, and Sara’s idea was as solid as anything they would get in such a short amount of time. If they accepted the mission as failed, it would be handed off to another crew, and there’d be a good chance their records would be marred for failing such a simple task.

He thought of the strange enemy in the dark and frowned. “What do you think, Celestino? Would this work?”

Celestino was squinting at his computer screen, reading something they couldn’t see. To Yuuri’s prompting, he said,  “Hmm. Our database of records for Zedok were last updated 3 weeks ago. That’s odd.”

“What does that mean for us?”

“Nothing, it’s just odd. It’s probably on the Rebellion’s end. Someone didn’t update us. I’ll put a ticket in for updated records, and maybe we can at least get points for having caught that.” His eyes refocused on them. “Now if you all really think they won’t recognize you, and we can get in touch with Popovich, I think this plan is a good bet. But,” he began to warn, “we don’t have the funds to be doing damage control like this often.”

“We understand.”

“All right then!” Mila whooped. “This is great. I’ll work on getting us in touch with Popovich.”

“If Mila and I are both staying back,” Sara said, “we can work double-time to try getting a read on any leaks in Zedok Station’s network. Maybe we can even derail a few security cams or bio-feeds.”

“I’ll be forwarding those records as soon as I have them,” Celestino clarified. “And I’ll have a rental craft sent remotely. Please watch for a transmission.”

“Thanks, Celestino.”

“Signing off then,” Celestino said, and his screen went black.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Yuuri thought of the man in the dark.

He didn’t have more than a blur imprinted in his mind and a yell in his ears. But he felt like he could picture him so well.

“Yuuri." The strange man from the bar had said his name like venom. A serum, offered to drip a deadly drip into Yuuri’s veins.

 _“Yuuri,”_ he hissed, tongue near his ear. Because now they were in one of the Loose’s hotel rooms. Because now Yuuri was glad he’d told his crew to maybe not expect him back. Because now Yuuri was letting himself take in Viktor: sharp, precise, deadly handsome, hair yanked from the stars and now in Yuuri’s hand.

It'd happened this way in orderly fashion, from one drink to flirtatious smirk to another, until there was a heady and stumbling trip to Viktor's rented room.

A corner lamp shown a dusty, orange light on a plain bed. The rest of the room was a whirl of inconsequential things, things of simplicity and pity and Yuuri kneeled over Viktor on the bed.

He felt his frustrations rise as his eyes raked Viktor’s body, and those irks were matched when he met Viktor’s eyes.

Viktor wanted him. Wanted to take him in fire and crush whoever had defeated him today, and Yuuri craved the same. _Fuck -_

Viktor yanked him down by the wrist until he was whispering at his ear again: “Don’t make us wait.” Wait for - redemption, a cheap success buried in each other?

Yeah, that.

Every second with Viktor, every piece of clothing removed, every knock of the cheap bed against the wall, it drove madness into Yuuri’s mind. Cheap light never looked so goddamn good when it glowed across a body so gorgeous, when it shown across starlight hair and made a sunrise. Rough comforters and threadbare sheets felt only a testimony to how raw and strewn they were.

Their first condom, in a hasty tear of the package, fell to the floor; their laugh broke that unadulterated spell and filled Yuuri’s heart in a cruel way. He’d grabbed Viktor’s face with fierce hands to shut them up and trace threats across Viktor’s lips. Viktor had responded, knowing and understanding in that horrible way they were in sync.

They were here to reclaim, take, fucking devour...

Viktor’s hands hurt good on Yuuri’s hips, rocking him into oblivion. His dick was hot in his ass; he slid in and out in a mess of gasps and sweat and the deliriously rough stroke against every inside part of him. It brought tears to Yuuri’s eyes, made his toes clamp down, and blood seared between dick and chest and face.

He closed his eyes and was submerged in a foreign and dark place. A shadow shifted across his eyelids, a quick movement gone almost undetectable in the dark...

His eyes flew open. Against the pounding of his heart and the scrambling pressure winding and unwinding in his ass, he choked out, “Wait, _wait,_ ” and Viktor’s eyes refocused onto him. Yuuri pulled away, and his dick twitched as he watched the pain of loss assault Viktor’s expression. God, he wanted him.

“I’m, I want - let me -“ It was so hard to speak and he struggled for words. But Viktor, attentive and so damnably hot, followed Yuuri’s prodding and pushing and laid back onto the bed. He bit his lip as Yuuri climbed over him. He backed down onto him again, and fucking shuddered at how they both groaned. And then he found his rhythm and rose up, came down, breathing heavy, again and again, taking them both.

The dark behind his lids and that asshole who’d ruined his mission flashed between the sight of Viktor’s torn expression, and both made his dick beg for touch. Viktor’s hands were back on his hips, nails rough - and _yes_ \- Yuuri crumbled every frustration into the pound between them, he imagined the crush of his foe against every pulse of his searing blood.

Drunk with lust, and so uncaring of anything beyond fucking hard, he grabbed his own dick and started to stroke. His touch felt so good when he noticed Viktor watching him with a gaze lost, lurid, and panting. And then his heart nearly stopped as Viktor suddenly reached up and pulled his hand away.

Yuuri thought he was going to fuck him himself, but Viktor gripped the base of his dick and breathed heavy, for Yuuri had slowed his pace. “Don’t stop,” he gasped. But then, “And also don’t finish yet.”

Oh, oh fuck. Yuuri groaned, furious, and forced himself back down. His lower back nearly ached - how could he want more and nothing all at once? It was a cold, burning, terrifying feeling.

Viktor hissed something unintelligible and kept a tight hold on Yuuri. Yuuri felt precum drip down his dick, his eyes watered with the need to be stroked, touched fast and greedy, he wanted the pressure rubbed out of him more than anything in the world. He wanted to _win._

Viktor pushed his hips up when Yuuri slowed. And so Yuuri decided he’d make him come first, at the very least. VIktor’s lower lip was bruised and wet as he bit and sucked against Yuuri’s movements, Yuuri’s gyrating and rolling and skillful sliding. It all hurt with his own need but it was worth it when he watched how Viktor writhed.

Then Viktor’s mouth was on Yuuri’s. Not something Yuuri had expected at this moment. Not when they were in the throes of this battle. And especially not as Viktor stroked long and smooth up Yuuri’s cock. The whimper loosed from Yuuri’s mouth was eaten by Viktor, tongue against tongue, and Yuuri was coming.

On Viktor, on himself, he was coming everywhere. He was bloodless and empty in seconds, but he couldn’t, couldn’t, _couldn’t_ lose Viktor now. With all his might, through his own yelp against Viktor’s lips, he fucked down onto him as hard as his shaking limbs could manage, until Viktor was choking on his breath and his fingernails were digging divots into Yuuri’s shoulders.

He could stay in the weak cloud of pleasure shrouding them forever.

Alas, nothing gold could stay. Viktor helped him off him; Yuuri quietly helped him clean; they sought water, and then the dark. The bed lay before them, wide and expansive, warm and safe. Yuuri’s clothes were in piles on the floor. Viktor’s couldn’t even be seen.

“Do you want to...?” Viktor hesitated, glancing between the bed and Yuuri. It was awkward, Yuuri was awkward, and in the sobering part of his mind there was disbelief trying to pry its way in. More than anything, however, Yuuri was exhausted. He’d failed a mission _and_ fucked a stranger now. The thought of dragging back out into the Loose Station’s interior, checking out, and boarding his ship in the middle of sleep hours…

“Is that okay?” he asked. He hoped Viktor wasn’t just asking for politeness while hoping Yuuri would decline. His limbs dragged, even as he pulled a shirt back on.  

“That’s fine. Safer.”

Safer?

“Oh. Right...” Yuuri sat on the bed, and in an easy motion Viktor fell onto it too and switched off the lamp.

Coldness swept in with the dark. But then the bed shifted and creaked with Viktor’s weight and that was something familiar now. Yuuri pulled the covers over him and welcomed the warmth of Viktor as he climbed under them, too. Naked and beautiful, he’d sleep with this man tonight. Literally sleep. His heart felt weird. Maybe he should leave.

Yet he was so tired…

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The dark began to stick to his eyelids and his limbs began to cool and loosen. Sleep felt like the tide coming in, a soft whoosh that was wide and vast, but not scary.

Then, through the black, Viktor whispered, “You’re amazing. _Damn_.”

And in his mind, Yuuri saw a flash of silver hair in the pitch blackness of Zedok’s docking station, and he heard its owner yell out in surprise.

His eyes flew wide open.

**Author's Note:**

> hi there! this is just a short thing i had an idea for. hope it's fun! i love any opportunity to put our boys in space. ;D 
> 
> feel free to follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/neptunedemon/) and [tumblr](http://skateonme.tumblr.com/) ^-^ thanks for reading! comment/kudo if you enjoyed please!


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